


Closed Door Cuddles

by anarchist



Category: DMMd, DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddle, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 15:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6157789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchist/pseuds/anarchist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aoba and Noiz confess, and that's about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closed Door Cuddles

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to get more into the cuddles, but I'm bad with body language. I'm sorry.
> 
> This was requested by an anon on Tumblr. Hope you find it and enjoy it!

There is an entire universe playing out in front of us. In every person, every face and every smile, every gesture and movement, the universe ebbs and flows, each individual a unitary part of a communal spirit. And occasionally, at church or at a bar or anywhere in between, individuals meet and share that spirit and it can be loud and angry and cathartic or it can be quiet and sincere, nothing more than a passing nod. 

Sometimes a passing nod turns into a smile, and a smile turns into a word, and we find ourselves behind closed doors with no one else but each other, and that’s that - that’s the beginning of a union of the communal spirit, perhaps a physical union but definitely an extension of the spiritual union. It is in this beginning place that we find Noiz, young and pierced and angry; and Aoba, concerned and confused and ashamed.

Where they met does not matter. The glances exchanged, the words spoken, the friendship grown through mutual understanding - we are both outliers, we are both strangers to this world - led them to this beginning behind closed doors.

The two had been behind closed doors many times before. Games, studying, eating - all things they enjoyed, and especially enjoyed together. But it was a movie night when it happened. A Friday night and an old movie that turned out to be trash, boring, when Aoba felt Noiz’s arm stretch up and over his shoulder as he lazed further into the couch the two shared.

Aoba shifted, unsure. He glanced over at Noiz, who appeared to be watching the movie, unfazed. He shrugged his shoulders, allowing the arm to fall comfortably into the crevice between his neck and the couch. 

The movie continued. Both were stiff, watching with feigned interest. 

And then Noiz spoke, confidently, as though he’d practiced a thousand times: “I like you.”

Aoba stiffened further. He gulped as his mouth filled with saliva, tongue feeling fat, suddenly unsure of what to do or say. The arm was still behind him, and he could feel his neck getting warm and maybe a little bit sweaty. He leaned forward and put his energy - his thoughts - into pulling his lovely blue hair back into a tight ponytail. A nervous habit, really. He bit his lip.

Noiz shuffled closer to Aoba, turning to face him at an angle. He tried to catch Aoba’s eye, but Aoba - so ashamed, so confused - looked away. Noiz tugged at his ponytail gently, trying to re-adopt the playful friendship they’d had since they met. 

When Aoba didn’t respond, Noiz spoke again. “I’m not going to apologize for feeling how I feel about you, Aobs.”

Silence for a moment, and then Aoba shook his head rapidly, ponytail swinging in front of Noiz’s face. Then he turned a little, glancing shyly at his friend. He was flushed. His hands were a little shaky as he reached over and touched Noiz’s knee. “I’m sorry. I’m just,” he placed one hand behind his head, letting out a sharp giggle, “a little uncomfortable. When it comes to this stuff. Especially when it’s with someone I… like.”

They both smiled. Their eyes met and both were beaming, every inch of their faces contorted into a mirror of that eternal universe at its happiest moment, but with that smile came fear and discomfort and straight-up youthful awkwardness.

Noiz made the first move after that. He swung his arm around Aoba’s shoulder again, gently tugging him closer until Aoba’s cheek was nested on his shoulder. This took time. Aoba wasn’t sure about being this close to him. Did he smell? Was his head too heavy? Would he hurt Noiz accidentally? But Noiz was reassuring, slowly pulling Aoba closer and shifting his own weight into the arm of the couch so that he could more comfortably continue his performance as Aoba’s pillow.

The movie continued, sure, but not much was watched of it, as Noiz and Aoba exchanged glances and quiet words and shuffled into a more comfortable position. It was near the hour mark when Aoba found it within himself to make a move, reaching out for Noiz’s bandaged hand and holding it gently, much to Noiz’s surprise.

“I don’t think I ever asked you why,” Aoba forced the words into the warm air between them, “you bandage yourself like this.”

Noiz’s deep breath could be felt by Aoba. The rise and fall of the chest, that heave indicating a question that could easily go unanswered if Aoba just changed the subject, but Aoba was curious and Aoba was finally settling into his position on the couch with his best friend and Aoba wanted to know more about him, the kinds of things one might know if they were in a relationship with another. An actual relationship.

“Aoba,” Noiz breathed the name effortlessly, prolonging it so he could consider what to say next. “Aoba, I want you to know that I like you. And this - being here with you - is a dream come true for me. And I want you to know about me. But this,” he said, squeezing Aoba’s hand, “is a serious issue that I don’t want you worrying about.”

Aoba tensed up again, just slightly, as he raised his head to look up at Noiz, who was looking away. He pressed his face into the nape of Noiz’s neck, breathing in his scent, and whispered, “I worry about you anyway.”

And so Noiz told him. A relationship built on trust, he said. A secret for a secret. Noiz, dissociative, using harm to bring himself back to this world. Aoba, anxiety-ridden, lashing out with panic attacks and using sarcasm as a coping mechanism. These outliers, these strangers to the world, sharing their spirit with each other through words and touch.

And the touch grew slowly over several weeks. It became less awkward, less mechanical, and more smooth and natural. The universe was aligning between them until the night it joined in a passion. These two, from strangers to friends to cuddlers to lovers, from glances to words to awkward touch to union, exemplified the universe’s guidance behind closed doors.

The universe lasts forever. It ebbs and flows. Sometimes, two unitary spirits meet in a passion, but the individual is not the universe, and the individual does not last forever. And so it was with Noiz and Aoba, who lasted just as long as they were supposed to last, but no longer.


End file.
